


Silken Kiss

by AraSigyrn



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: F/F, Gender Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:58:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy intrigues Natasha.</p>
<p>Written for the 'gender play' square on my kink bingo card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silken Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by deannawol who is awesome.

In SHIELD HQ, Darcy Lewis wears suits with trousers and defiantly ratty sneakers with day-glo paint and glittering stickers. She keeps her hair loose, hanging around her shoulders and all her clothes are big enough to be comfortable. She wears lip-gloss and has been known to dab eye shadow on during the rare afternoons when nothing's happening. 

Darcy Lewis swears like a sailor, is brash and fearless in the face of her superiors and has been known to throw one-liners at the Hulk in full Hulk mode. She chews gum in meetings and makes no effort to hide her opinion. (Captain Steve Rogers, Agent Clint Barton and Agent Maria Hill have all made separate requests for information confirming Darcy Lewis is not a female clone of Tony Stark. SHIELD has yet to reply.)

She never flinches when her job requires her to be ruthless. Her tazer, Blinky VII, is always in one of the holsters hidden under her over-sized jacket and office rumor insists that Darcy tazed Director Fury during her job interview. (She did.) She's the highest ranking female after Maria Hill and after the first week, none of her male co-workers even notice.

Darcy Lewis isn't a super-scientist, not like Dr Foster and Dr Banner but she has a rapier wit and the sort of intuitive awareness that SHIELD prizes. She never hesitates to admit when she's out of her depth but she knows enough to be loudly contemptuous of most of SHIELD's so-called experts.

She drinks coffee with Pepper Potts and eats lunch with the Avengers. She has an open invitation to the Latvarian Embassy with a promise of safe-conduct should she ever want to play Go. The UN advisory committees invite her to every dinner they hold. Namor, king of Atlantis, has proposed to her at least five times.

She's a minor legend in SHIELD; a benchmark that all new agents get measured against.

All this, Natasha knows and it makes her smile. 

Natasha met Darcy very early, during the wild days immediately after Thor's explosive arrival and departure. In the middle of the devastation and chaos, Darcy had co-opted two teams of SHIELD agents and organized emergency relief with a crisp efficiency that Natasha's superiors had admired. Natasha had been intrigued when Darcy used her temporary clout with SHIELD to recover her iPod. She had been even more intrigued to discover that the iPod held no secret research, no data and had made a point of being the one to return it.

"Why?" Natasha had asked, holding out the iPod as the immense task of returning Doctor Foster's research bustled around them.

"Because it's mine," Darcy answered tartly, snatching it greedily. "And you didn't have a right to take it away."

Natasha had taken her to dinner after their debate dragged into its fourth hour and found herself honestly intrigued. SHIELD recruits a very particular type of person and while Natasha can happily co-exist with that type of person, it is a boring interaction. Darcy Lewis, with her girlish accessories and her mannish attitude, is a delightful enigma.

So, when Natasha is walking through the corridor and catches a glimpse of Darcy, in her defiantly untailored suit and un-creased trousers or she hears Clint and Tony arguing for the hundredth time about the ethics of a secret paternity test, she smiles.

On the rare nights when the world is not teetering on the brink of disaster, Natasha makes plans. Darcy agrees and Natasha makes all the arrangements. She isn't a fool. S.H.I.E.L.D. are ever-present but the constant surveillance will be discrete if she handles the set up. Americans are prudes in ways that still surprise her but she is happy to take advantage of that fact when it suits her purposes.

Darcy does not object. Natasha is delicate about asking but though she pulls faces as Natasha carefully powders Darcy's face, the other woman's agreement is a sure, wonderful thing. She folds her hands patiently in her lap, eyes demurely downcast, and lets Natasha draw delicate lines to frame her eyes. Her long, untidy hair braids easily and Natasha slides the clips into place, holding it in a French knot. 

Darcy shivers as Natasha draws the stockings up her newly-shaved legs and casually fondles the coarse curls between Darcy's legs. She has a pretty mouth and when Natasha drags her fingers across the full curve of her lower lip, her tongue darts out to steal a kittenish lick. Natasha paints those inviting lips a bright scarlet, nearly the color of her own hair and takes a kiss in passing.

The dress is old-fashioned, almost prudish but the skirt billows out from Darcy's hips in a swirl of lace and the tightly fitted bodice highlights her breasts. Natasha makes Darcy unsteady on her feet, just by drawing her fingers along the side of her breast. She will be a delight in bed, Natasha is sure and she feels the slick clench of her own cunt at the thought.

The shoes, polished leather with a buckle and strap, are the final touch. Natasha has already learned that Darcy is barely comfortable in kitten heels and the four inch stilettos make her hips sway in exaggerated arcs that make her skirt billow and draw Natasha's eye irresistibly to the swell of her buttocks.

The uncertain balance makes Darcy slower and more careful about how she moves and she keeps her eyes on the floor, watchful for hazards. Natasha circles her and smiles. Darcy is transformed and Natasha kisses her again, light and teasing. She laughs at the frustrated groan Darcy lets out as she pulls back. 

It takes Natasha less than ten minutes to dress. She is rewarded immediately; Darcy's pupils contract, her cheeks pink and she licks her lips as she takes in the highly unusual sight of Natasha in a tuxedo. Natasha offers her arm with a courtly bow and Darcy's eyes dance as she takes it.

Darcy moves in tiny, dainty steps and clings to her arm. Natasha has reservations for eight at a ballroom dancing event. She looks forward to the chance to dance this demure and overly-feminized version of Darcy around the room but even more, Natasha thinks as Darcy slides a slyly familiar hand over her thigh, she's looking forward to tumbling Darcy into bed and undoing all the careful work all over again.


End file.
